


when i’m where you are

by constantblur



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, PDA, Public Sex, Sylvix Week (Fire Emblem), Sylvix Week 2020 (Fire Emblem), and a wee little bit of, taking advantage of in-universe magic to make invisibility a thing for porny reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26619844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constantblur/pseuds/constantblur
Summary: None of Sylvain’s letters have hinted at when he might return.Felix understands. Felix can be patient. But Felix has been deprived of Sylvain’s mouth whispering commentary into his ear during these meetings and Sylvain’s mouth on his mouth after these meetings and it’s—Threemonths.Post-war. After a long time away from the capital, Sylvain makes a surprise return. During a council meeting. Under the table. Felix is a little overwhelmed. Wink wink. Written for the Sylvix Week Day 2 prompt: PDA.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	when i’m where you are

Felix crosses his arms and slumps down in his seat, glaring at everyone gathered around the table. None of them notice.

There seems little point in hanging around for this chaos, but unfortunately, Felix knows he won’t get away with leaving the room in the middle of this generously-designated “council meeting.” Even after everything, Dimitri’s first and foremost purpose in life is to irritate Felix, so Felix knows full-well that Dimitri will suddenly become aware of his presence the moment he stands up, insist Felix remain until the “meeting” is over, and then invite Felix to share his thoughts with the room.

Better to just glare his way through until the bitter end.

Felix doesn’t know why Dimitri hasn’t given up on these parodies of “council meetings.” They’d started off as somewhat more exclusive and therefore somewhat more organized gatherings of actual councilors, nobles, generals, and other close allies of the newly coronated King of Faerghus. The general purpose was to address how, exactly, a newly coronated king was to unify three different war-torn countries, and the more meetings they had, the more they began to move away from the more urgent, crucial matters and onto frivolous things like what should the new flag look like and how could they raise the spirits of the commonfolk.

That last one has been the main topic for several meetings now, and its a topic that’s invited more and more people to stick their noses in and give their opinions or pitch their own ideas. The more people that cram into the council chambers to shout their ideas at the king, the less Felix wishes they’d won the war. All that bloodshed and slogging through battlefield after battlefield only to wind up with even worse problems.

All right, he doesn’t mean that. Of course he doesn’t. But problems that can be solved with a sword are so much _simpler_. Dimitri may prefer these attempts at diplomacy, but even he can’t possibly find all these meetings rewarding.

Felix lets his glare sweep over the room again, and again, it goes completely unnoticed. There’s nothing satisfying about not being able to make even one of these fools balk. It used to be at least a little amusing to attempt it, back when it would earn him an elbow bumping into his ribcage that was probably intended as a silent scold, but always ended with a little grin that usually made Felix unclench enough to grin back.

Sylvain has been gone for three months.

A brittle peace agreement was reached with Sreng shortly after the war, and for a long time, it didn’t seem like it could possibly take. But Sylvain doggedly kept at it until the tenuous cessation of hostilities finally felt sturdy. Only then was Sylvain willing to leave Gautier territory. Only then could he join Felix in the new capital and accompany Felix to these meetings. But word reached them nearly four months ago of tensions beginning to rise again, and Sylvain had high-tailed it back to Gautier to bring the boil back to a simmer; the absolute last thing anyone wanted to be dealing with now was the breakout of another war just as they were beginning to see progress in rebuilding and healing from the last one.

Sylvain has not been able to attend these meetings for the past few months, but it seems like just about everyone else in the Kingdom has. Those who were allies during the war gather to discuss what needs rebuilding in their regions, the money and the manpower they need to recover, or the money and manpower they can commit to helping their neighbors. Those who weren’t allies during the war also join, and Felix spends the majority of these meetings staring them down as though he can unnerve them into admitting they don’t actually support the Kingdom and are planning to tear all these tentative alliances apart.

It’s hardly distraction enough to keep Felix from noticing the absence in the room, but it’s just about the only thing Felix has to get him through these meetings. None of Sylvain’s letters have hinted at when he might return.

Felix understands. Felix can be patient. But Felix has been deprived of Sylvain’s mouth whispering commentary into his ear during these meetings and Sylvain’s mouth on his mouth after these meetings and it’s—

Three _months_.

It should feel like no time at all, considering how little they’d seen of each other in those five years between Dimitri’s disappearance and sudden reappearance with a certain other missing person of interest. But things are different between them now than they’d been back then, and now it’s _different_.

Now it’s unbearable.

Felix sighs heavily. Let this meeting end soon so at least he can wallow out in the training yard rather than in this loud and over-stuffed council chamber.

Something brushes against Felix’s feet.

He sits up abruptly, frowning around the table to see if maybe Ingrid or Ashe or some other about-to-be-stabbed nobleman had noticed his inattentiveness and tried to nudge him back to attention. No one’s looking at him though, and frankly, no one seems to be within range of his feet. Neither people on either side of him is sitting close enough to accidentally brush him, and the table is too wide for anyone on the other side to reach him unless they were to slump noticeably low in their seat. Did a cat get loose in the room?

And then Felix feels hands on his knees.

His gaze snaps down, but he sees nothing. There’s no cat, no person, nothing there at all to explain why he feels like hands are running up his thighs.

When Felix tentatively reaches a hand towards his thigh, the feeling is gone as abruptly as it came.

Felix frowns at himself. It’s nothing. A phantom touch his tired and stressed out brain conjured out of his melancholy thoughts. 

When it happens again, his foot shoots out and hits something. 

There’s the faintest breath of laughter, and Felix immediately registers that he is intimately familiar with that laugh. 

He also immediately remembers Sylvain trying to sound humbly nonchalant but failing as he bragged about learning new magic with Byleth, some sort of stealth tactics that would help them keep an eye and an ear on untrustworthy nobles and aid Dimitri in keeping order in the Kingdom. 

Invisibility is just about the stealthiest tactic one could learn, Felix supposes. 

Still, Felix lowers his head and as quietly and reproachfully as possible mutters, “Sylvain?”

“Hello, love,” Sylvain responds, right before he begins tugging open the laces of Felix’s breeches. 

Felix kicks his foot out again and only just manages to stifle a growl at Sylvain’s huff of laughter. “What,” he hisses, “are you _doing?_ ”

“Greeting my husband,” Sylvain says, and pulls Felix’s cock out.

“What the hell kind of customs do they have in Sreng?” Felix says a little hysterically and probably a bit too loud, but honestly, there’s probably not much point trying to whisper in here. There are approximately seven people arguing with each other right now, only they seem a little unclear about who’s on whose side, which is just making them all more agitated and raise their voices more the more confused they get.

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Sylvain says. “They can suck each other off or go to war with us. I’m done. I _missed_ you.”

And while Felix knows the first part is categorically untrue, the earnestness in those final words makes Felix ache.

He can’t say he doesn’t want it when he feels Sylvain’s lips slide down the head of his cock. He might not want it _here_ , in this room full of some of the most repugnant people he’s ever encountered while they all try to out-ignoramus each other, but when it comes to the softness of that mouth, the wet heat that brands him and besets him, Felix is far past the point where he can pretend he’s capable of resisting it.

It doesn’t mean Felix won’t eviscerate him after the meeting is over, but _oh_ , Felix has missed Sylvain too. And now he’s back. Sylvain is back, Sylvain is here, right here, touching him for the first time in three months—

And, as Felix’s lust-soaked brain finally becomes cognizant of the fact that the hand stroking him is covered in a leather glove, he realizes that Sylvain had not even taken the time to change from his riding clothes before coming here.

“ _Sylvain_ ,” Felix whispers, cautiously reaching out a hand until he feels Sylvain’s hair brush his fingertips. The ring on his finger glints as he caresses his husband’s head.

Sylvain moans around Felix, the electric shock of the vibration panging up Felix’s cock and surging all the way up his spine.

Felix’s forehead knocks loudly against the table where it drops.

The room goes silent.

“Felix?” Dimitri says, sounding concerned. “Are you all right?”

“Um,” Felix says into the table. He turns his head towards Dimitri, noting his raised hand that had obviously halted whatever caricature of a conversation had been happening. “No. Actually. Not feeling well. I’m going to go to my room.” He pauses, just because he knows he can get away with being a bit of a bitch. “With your permission.”

Felix more feels than hears Sylvain’s chuckle as he makes Felix decent again, pressing a kiss to Felix’s knee after tying off the laces of Felix’s breeches.

“Yes, of course,” Dimitri says. “Please go and rest, Felix.” He offers Felix a small, tentative smile. “I think perhaps there may already be something waiting in your room that will hopefully help you feel better.”

Dimitri knew Sylvain would be returning today. Sylvain had written to Dimitri to let him know he would be returning today.

It takes a couple deep breaths until he feels steadied enough to stand and leave the room—and trust his legs to be able to do so—but Felix eventually does so, all too glad to let the door slam behind him.

Sylvain is leaning against the wall waiting for him at the end of the corridor. His smile is so much softer than Felix had been expecting after . . . that. “Hey, Felix,” Sylvain says, sounding even softer.

“You told Dimitri you were coming back but not me,” Felix says, sounding hard as steel. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

Sylvain looks startled. “To surprise you, of course,” he says. “I didn’t think—are you mad?”

Felix presses his lips together, staring at a slight cleft in the wall. “No,” he says finally. “But—I had no idea when—and it’s already been _so long_ —“

“I’m sorry,” Sylvain says, and Felix abruptly finds himself folded between Sylvain’s arms. His response is practically a conditioned thing: Felix immediately melts into the hold, leaning his head against Sylvain’s chest. “I’m sorry, Felix.”

“It’s all right,” Felix says. “You’re back now.” He pulls back slightly, a sudden alarm going through him. “You are back, right? This isn’t some 24-hour leave before you have to be on the road and headed back to Sreng—“

“No,” Sylvain cuts him off. “No, I’ve done all I can there. Things seem as calm as they’ll ever be, and Gilbert is there to smooth things over if it starts getting precarious again. I trust him, and the Sreng trust him, so—“ he smiles warmly at Felix “—I’m back.”

“Good,” Felix breathes out, slotting himself against Sylvain’s chest again. “I have to murder you later. I can’t _believe_ you, Sylvain.”

Sylvain laughs lowly. “Neat trick, huh?”

“You’re a complete menace,” Felix says.

“Hey, come on now,” Sylvain says, “I got you out of a meeting early, didn’t I?”

“Hm,” Felix hums, casting a critical eye up at Sylvain. “I suppose you did.”

Sylvain curves a leather-clad hand around Felix’s cheek, thumb stroking beneath Felix’s bottom lip. “I had some ideas on how we might better spend the time.”

“Oh?” Felix says, and pushes up on his toes to press his mouth to Sylvain’s.

Sylvain groans into the kiss, pulling Felix hard up against him with a hand tangling into Felix’s hair. Felix clutches Sylvain’s riding jacket in his fists like he needs to hold him in place as he lavishes bruising kiss after bruising kiss on Sylvain’s lips.

“Well, goodness, boys,” an amused voice drawls out sweetly behind them. “The corridor hardly seems the place for this. Get a room.”

Felix heaves a long-suffering sigh as he pulls back from Sylvain. “Hello, Dorothea,” Sylvain says cheerfully over Felix’s shoulder.

“Hello, Sylvain,” Dorothea says, still sounding far too amused but affectionate all the same. “Welcome back.”

Sylvain looks Felix in the eye when he says, “It’s good to be home.”

Felix hears footsteps walking away behind him, with an, “A _room_ , boys,” called out before the sound disappears entirely.

“I still might murder you later,” Felix says, “but right now I need you to follow me to our room and finish what you started.”

Sylvain grins. “That I can do.”

“Good,” Felix says. He takes Sylvain’s hand, tugging him along behind him down another corridor. “Hope there’s nothing else that required the Margrave’s attention today because we’re going to be there for a while.”

Sylvain laces their fingers together, tightening his hold on Felix’s hand. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/constantblur_)


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